


An Expression of That Kind of Love

by Cade Welentine (cadewelentine)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Asexual Cecil, Asexual Character, Carlos is a Good Boyfriend, Episode: e067 [Best Of?], M/M, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4017508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadewelentine/pseuds/Cade%20Welentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil has never quite understood why anyone would want to do more than kiss; kissing's always been enough for him. When his older sister attempts to explain it to him, he internalizes the information- an action that has unforeseen consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

_“We could have had something Cecil, always remember that.”_

“Your skin is so soft.” Earl whispered, his fingers slipping underneath the hem of Cecil’s untucked button down. The other boy’s breath hitched, which Earl took as a sign to keep going.

“I think my mother’s looking for me.” Cecil said, pushing Earl away gently.

“Again?” Earl asked, sitting back on his knees and looking more than a little disappointed.

“Uh-huh.” Cecil nodded, sitting up on his elbows. “Can’t you hear her calling my name?”

“I don’t hear anything at all.” Earl said. The tip of his nose wrinkled, and Cecil felt his pulse quicken at the idea of being caught in his lie.

“Maybe you should get your ears checked, because I most certainly hear her calling. “ Cecil insisted, pushing himself up. “Sorry, Early, but I should go see what she wants. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.” Earl nodded. He looked so dejected that Cecil couldn’t help but feel guilt well up in the pit of his stomach. He tried not to dwell on it as he hoisted his bicycle from the ground, mounted it, and pedaled away from his best friend.

Or boyfriend.

Or whatever Cecil was supposed to call Earl. He honestly didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure how he felt about Earl. On one hand, he liked kissing Earl and holding his hand and just being close to him, and they knew everything there was to know about each other. So, in that respect, “boyfriend” seemed like the most appropriate term. But then, whenever Earl tried to do more than kiss, Cecil panicked and pushed him away. He’d feel Earl pressing against his thigh and squirm uncomfortably, embarrassed that he couldn’t reciprocate the same physical response. And then Earl would always try to touch his chest, which was kind of weird, because, as far as he knew, his chest would feel just the same as Earl’s would. Sometimes that was when Cecil pushed Earl away, but sometimes he waited until Earl slid his thigh between Cecil’s legs, his hand running all over Cecil’s front until Cecil couldn’t take it anymore and wriggled out from under him.

Cecil didn’t understand why he couldn’t go further-whatever that entailed- with Earl. It certainly wasn’t from lack of affection. And he did think that Earl was the most handsome boy in the entire world, so he didn’t think it could’ve been from that.

The more Cecil thought about it, the more he realized that he had never really wanted to do more than kiss anyone before, not even the most attractive of teen idols, who had full color spreads in the magazines his older sister liked to read. The kinds of magazines that described people as being “hot”, an adjective that Cecil could never figure out how to apply. The use of the word confused him. Of course they were hot, they had a body temperature of ninety-eight degrees just like everybody else.

He found it even more confusing when it was applied to him. His sister had once told him he looked hot when he came downstairs dressed to the nines in his suit for his freshman formal dance. Perplexed, he had explained to her that of course he was hot, he was wearing a three piece suit in the middle of a desert.

She had stared at him like he had three heads.

Cecil rode his bike into his backyard, leaning it up against the side of the house, just as his mother always insisted he do. He didn’t know why, it wasn’t as if anyone would bother to steal it. It was old fashioned and rusted, and doing so would mean they’d have to come near the house, which few people in town were brave enough to do.

He was headed toward the back door to let himself in when he noticed. His sister was with a boy, which wasn’t really all that surprising. What had caught his attention was what she was doing with that boy. They were laying on a blanket she must’ve spread out, and her skirt was pushed up so that her legs weren’t covered at all, and the boy was between them, with his pants pulled down part of the way. They were kissing- just the way Earl liked to kiss Cecil- but they were doing something else too. Cecil could only think to describe it as rubbing themselves together. Whatever it was, it sure was making his sister moan and groan a lot- the boy too.

Was that what Earl wanted to do to Cecil?

Rub himself against Cecil until they were moaning and groaning too?

The idea made Cecil blush, and he covered his eyes with his hands, retreating into the house.

...

Cecil was determined to ask his sister just what she was doing with that boy, no matter how embarrassed it made him. Which was why, after dinner that evening, he knocked on her bedroom door, blatantly ignoring the sign that depicted his name in all capital letters with a big red slash going through it.

“What do you want?” She demanded, door still closed.

“Abby, can we talk please?” He requested politely. She grumbled a bit from the other side of the door, but opened it anyone, allowing her little brother into her room just this once.

Cecil was surprised by how clean Abby’s room was. His sister was the type to leave anything and everything laying out where ever she finished using it for someone else to clean up, but her room was nearly spotless. He couldn’t even find a speck of dust on any of the little knick knacks that decorated her bookshelves.

“What did you wanna talk about, Gershwin?” She asked, referring to him by his middle name. It was habit that the Palmer family had adopted soon after Cecil learned to walk, as their mother would often call out for their father- or at least, they assumed he was their father- whose name was Cecil as well. Cecil would hear his name and toddle over to her, only for the both of them to stare at each other, wondering what the other wanted.

“Um, so I wanted to ask you something.” Cecil told her nervously, cautiously sitting at the foot of her bed.

“Okay.” Abby nodded, pulling her knees up to her chest. Cecil stared at her bunny slippers, hoping he won’t blush nearly as much if he’s not looking her in the eye.

“What, um, what were you doing with that boy in the backyard today?” He asked, his words coming out rushed and mumbled.

“Oh my god.” Abby said, her eyes going wide. “Were you watching us, you little perv?”

“No!” Cecil all but shouted. “I just- I put my bike in the backyard and you guys were there, and I- I didn’t know what you were doing.”

Abby gave him a wary look. Her little brother seemed to know everything about everything, and she found it hard to believe that he wouldn’t actually know what they were doing. She assumed he was messing with her, but yet he looked too nervous. He wouldn’t look at her, and his fingers wouldn’t stop moving, fidgeting and linking together in distracted motion.

“We were having sex.” She said finally, deciding that Cecil was sincere. “It’s what people who are in love do.”

“Oh.” Cecil said, looking up. “Um, do you have to have sex to be in love with someone?”

“Generally?” Abby said. “It’s sort of like an expression of that kind of love. Like how hugs are an expression of our kind of love. Do you understand?”

“Well, why can’t kissing be an expression of that kind of love?” Cecil pressed.

“I mean, you don’t have to love someone to be able to kiss them, Gersh.” Abby shrugged. “I’ve kissed all sorts of boys I don’t love.”

“Oh.” Cecil said. He paused then added, “So you love that boy? The one from the backyard?”

Abby gave the smallest smile Cecil had ever seen. It was so sweet and shy and pure and innocent, he wasn’t quite sure it really was his sister.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “And I think he loves me too.” She hesitated,“He asked me to marry him, Cecil.” She giggled, holding her hand out so that her little brother could see the shiny ring on her finger.

“Really?” Cecil asked, taking her hand and leaning in close to view the ring. “Neat!”

...

The next time Cecil saw Earl, he decided he would let Earl go further, because he wanted Earl to know that he loved him. He wanted Earl to love him. And if they had to go further for that to be possible, that was fine. It wasn’t great, but it was fine.

And so, when Earl’s hand skirted along the hem of Cecil’s t-shirt, Cecil didn’t say anything.

And when Earl’s hand slipped up underneath his shirt, Cecil didn’t say anything.

He didn’t say anything when Earl push his thigh between Cecil’s legs.

He didn’t say anything when shirts were taken off.

He didn’t say anything when pants were pulled down.

And when it was all said and done? Well he didn’t say anything then either. He just curled himself against Earl’s warm body, trying to figure out why Earl liked that as much as he did. Cecil didn’t find it particularly fun or otherwise enjoyable.

But he gave it another shot the next time he saw Earl.

And the time after that.

He still didn’t like it.

And then Earl got a girlfriend, and he didn’t talk to Cecil again.

 


	2. Part Two

_“On my trip I met a very smart and…very handsome scientist. His name is Guglielmo Marconi. He showed me all sorts of things, all sorts of things. All sorts.”_

Europe was good to Cecil. It was good for him to get out of Night Vale, to explore a part of the world so vastly different from his home. The scenery was beautiful, the food was amazing, and the people were incredible- enough to distract him from what he was missing back at home.

Abby had gotten married in the spring. She wrote him all about it, insisting that he didn’t need to come home for her wedding, that they would celebrate themselves when he got home. There’d been a sandstorm on her wedding day, which put a nervous pit in Cecil’s stomach for reasons he didn’t quite understand, but she claimed it hadn’t put a damper on the celebrations. Sure, everyone had retreated inside and cowered for twenty minutes, and their mother hadn’t stopped shouting something unintelligible about omens and warnings, but other than that, it hadn’t affected the party at all.

Abby wrote of how she was expecting a baby, which meant that Cecil would be an uncle- perhaps before he returned. Cecil assured her that he would be home by then, but she seemed uncertain, and, again, insisted he not worry about it.

So the homefront, Cecil knew, was exciting.

And the away-front, Cecil knew, was just as exciting.

In fact, it was so exciting that it had led him to meet a boy!

An attractive boy with stunning eyes who went by the name of Guglielmo Marconi.

Cecil didn’t quite know what to make of Marconi. Or rather, he didn’t quite know what to make of his relationship with Marconi. Marconi himself was fairly straightforward. He was a scientist, and he was working on a fascinating new invention called- and this was his word, not Cecil’s- “radio”. The word sounded just as goofy as what Marconi expected the device to do. According to the scientist, “radio” would take voices and sounds and transmit them to other “radios” via waves in the air.

But as for their relationship? Cecil was unsure. Marconi was a scientist, and Cecil did like scientists- he was very into science these days. And that didn’t even acknowledge the fact that Marconi was pretty easy on the eyes. So, by all accounts, Cecil liked Marconi. But did Marconi like him?

Marconi rarely talked to him, or acknowledged his presence. Most of the time, he just had Cecil sit off to the side while he tinkered with his “radio” making adjustments and taking measurements.Every once in a while, he’d ask Cecil to say something, to test out the technology. Cecil would wax poetic about Marconi’s eyes, but if the scientist was actually listening, he didn’t let on.

Today was one of the days he asked Cecil to speak.

“And perfect Marconi, with his perfect eyes,” Cecil sighed into the microphone, staring dreamily at the scientist in front of him. “He is here with me, fidgeting with his ‘radio’ as always. I wonder if he’s listening to me. I don’t think so. He doesn’t seem to ever notice just how perfect I think he looks. He doesn’t ever seem to notice me... I wish he would.” Cecil sighed again, watching the scientist who was studying him intently, as if he were just now noticing Cecil’s presence at all.

He stepped close to Cecil, placing a tentative hand under the traveler’s chin. He tilted Cecil’s face up toward him, stroking his thumb along Cecil’s jaw line.

“Listeners,” Cecil said, still holding the microphone, though his focus was completely on Marconi. “I think he’s noticed me.”

Marconi leaned in close to Cecil’s face. Cecil could see every intricate crack and crevice in the scientist’s delicate skin, how weary it was worn from years of study and worry and work. Marconi was closer now. If Cecil leaned up just a bit more their lips would almost be-

And there-

They were kissing, long and hard, and deep, tongues entangled and bodies close together. And for Cecil, that was enough. It was perfect in all that it was. But just as it was never enough for Earl, it wasn’t enough for Marconi.

And before Cecil knew it, his clothes were on the floor and he was sprawled out on one of the work tables, which Marconi had brushed clean. It was sort of like Earl, in that the motions were the same. Cecil recognized them, and he recognized the feelings and sensations. But it wasn’t exactly like Earl. Marconi was rougher and tougher than Earl ever was, going hard enough for the table to creak beneath Cecil. And, at the very least, Earl acknowledged that Cecil was another person under him. Marconi just worked away until he was finished; not even bothering to kiss Cecil now that they were this far in.

And then it was over.

Marconi moved away, going back to fiddle with his "radio" once more, and he didn’t talk to Cecil again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was trying to be good and wait until I posted a new chapter, but honestly, I'm just so excited for other people to read it that I may end up posting all of it today. Whoops!  
> Honestly, the longer it sits unposted in my drive, the more I start to second guess it, so it might be better for all if I post it soon.  
> Anyhoo, thanks for reading, and as always, comments are always welcome!
> 
> (P.S. Feel free to point out any typos. I'm sure y'all know how hard they are to spot after you've read something for the twentieth time. So, just drop me a line and let me know, it'll be much appreciated.)
> 
> (P.P.S, I just realized I never gave y'all my tumblr. I'm eldertwelvecupsofcoffee.tumblr.com if you wanna come find me there. :D)


	3. Part Three

_“Carlos is so smart, and he says so many smart things!”_

__

Cecil had become an incredibly guarded person in his uncountable years on the planet. Circumstance had hardened him, and he often came across as colder than he meant to. Many an intern was afraid to face him- though many theorized that was done out of desire to stay alive rather than actual fear of Cecil Palmer.

What had made him this way? He didn’t know.

He had a feeling that it had to do with quote-unquote “love”, as people referred to it. Love. That simple, fragile emotion that seemed to be the bane of his existence. Love had only served to make him miserable, forcing him to do all sorts of things he’d didn’t like in its name. The same emotion he couldn’t stop feeling, no matter how much he tried. It had gone away for a while; he hadn’t felt the telltale fluttering in his heart since he’d returned from Europe, and that was just as well. He’d come back to a baby niece, Janice, and a distraught, divorced Abby, whose husband had left her on her own.

So, Cecil poured all of his love into Janice and Abby. He would watch the infant so his sister could work. And there were many nights that he’d read the news while rocking a baby to sleep, or reported traffic while bouncing her on his knees. Many nights he’d fallen asleep in front of the TV, bottle falling out of his hand on to the floor, his other hand cupped protectively around the child fast asleep on his chest.

And then Abby met Steve, and Cecil had to watch Janice a bit more. And then a lot less.

And then not at all.

Abby and Steve got married, and Cecil was wary. He was wary of anyone who claimed to love his sister now, having seen what happened with the last man to claim the same. And it was easy to hate Steve Carlsberg, who spoke aloud of forbidden technologies and information, so he could hide behind that rather than admit the strange and protective feelings he felt instead.

And then, Carlos arrived.

Perfect Carlos, with his perfect hair and teeth like a military cemetery. Carlos who had skin the color of roasted hazelnuts and eyes just on the green side of hazel, eyes that sparkled when they caught the bright white light of the desert sun as he experimented with the myriad of flora in the sand wastes. Handsome Carlos who was a scientist, making Cecil wonder if he happened to have a type. Despite Cecil’s best efforts, Carlos made the fluttering come back, and he couldn’t help but discuss it at length on the radio-the only thing that made his heart flutter the same way Carlos' presence did.

He would wax on about Carlos’ hair. He’d recite dissertations about Carlos’ teeth. He’d recited poems upon poems about Carlos’ skin. He’d given lengthy speeches about Carlos’ eyes. And he never failed to mention that Carlos was both perfect and scientist.

...

Cecil was beyond thrilled when Carlos called him, and even more excited when he asked to see him outside of the Arby’s.

“What is it?” Cecil said, practically leaping out of his car when Carlos approached. “Wha– what danger are we in? What mystery needs to be explored?”

Carlos shook his head, sitting down on the hood of Cecil’s car. Cecil cautiously sat beside him.

“Nothing,” he said. “After everything that happened…I just wanted to see you.”

Cecil’s heart leapt, it soared! His heart metaphorically performed a number of aerial activities and literally it began to beat hard.

“Oh?” Cecil said, his voice more tremble than word.

Carlos looked at the setting sun.

“I used to think it was setting at the wrong time,” he said, “but then I realized that time doesn’t work in Night Vale, and that none of the clocks are real. Sometimes things seem so strange, or malevolent, and then you find that, underneath, it was something else altogether. Something pure, and innocent.”

“I know what you mean,” Cecil replied.

And their hands met in the space between their legs, and everything was perfect.

...

They had a first date after that night in the parking lot of the Arby’s. And then a second date after that. And a third. And it wasn’t until the fourth date that Cecil was asked to come inside afterward for coffee. And Cecil Palmer had never been known to turn down a cup of coffee in his life, so of course he said yes (It should be noted that Cecil Palmer had never been known to pick up on social cues very well either.).

Carlos’ apartment was sparsely furnished. It had the staples of every apartment of course- a bed, a couch, a television set, and a coffee table made entirely of spoons- but it held nothing beyond that. Cecil wondered how little time one would have to spend in an apartment to merit leaving it free of any and all decoration.

“I move around a lot.” Carlos said, as if he were reading Cecil’s mind. Perhaps he was, Cecil didn’t know what kind of abilities science could give a person. “I haven’t had time to accumulate a lot of belongings.”

“It’s nice.” Cecil assured him. “Different, but nice.”

“Thanks.” Carlos said, giving a hint of a smile. He gestured toward the little couch, saying, “Please, sit down.”

Cecil nodded, lowering himself onto Carlos’ loveseat. He nervously rubbed his palms down his thighs, hoping his pants would absorb a few of the gallons of sweat currently pouring out of his hands. Carlos sat beside him, his own hand carefully resting on Cecil’s knee. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle, caring kiss to Cecil’s lips. Carlos’ own lips were chapped and rough from the hours spent underneath the unforgiving desert sun. Cecil leaned into the kiss, letting his eyes close all the way, placing his hand on Carlos’ thigh.

Carlos placed a tentative hand in the small of Cecil’s back, lowering the radio host down on the couch. Cecil’s pulse quickened. This was a position he most definitely recognized, and it most certainly meant he would not be getting any coffee anytime soon. Cecil opened his eyes; Carlos’ were still closed. The scientist edged his kisses down Cecil’s jaw, onto his neck. Cecil squirmed a bit, but didn’t say anything.

He really, really liked Carlos. In fact, there was no doubt in his mind that he loved Carlos with all of his heart. And if this what he had to do to show Carlos that he loved him- if this was the expression of the kind of love that Cecil felt for Carlos- then he could do it. He could, and he would.

Carlos slipped his hand underneath Cecil’s shirt, and Cecil couldn’t help but make a little noise of protest. Carlos paused, pulling back and looking at his date.

“Cecil, are you okay?” He asked.

“Totally!” Cecil cried, just a tad too chipper to be real. “I’m just dandy. So ready to have sex. This is going to be just... _neat_!”

“Ceese,” Carlos started, and Cecil just about died. “We don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to.”

“Yes, we do.” Cecil retorted. “It’s how you’ll know that I love you. It’s ‘an expression of that kind of love’, that’s what my sister said, and she’s been married twice, so she would know. And-and it’s what I did for Earl and Marconi, even though I don’t think I loved them even close to as much as I love you. And I really want you to know that I love you, so I will do this.”

Carlos sat back, helping Cecil to sit up. He just held Cecil’s hand for the longest time, not saying anything, just stroking Cecil’s hand with his thumb in big sweeping circles.

“Cecil, you can show me you love in other ways,” Carlos said. “Like this. Just sitting here with me is nice. And you like to kiss, right? So we can do that. We don’t have to have sex, because you’re ace, and that’s okay.”

“Ace?” Cecil echoed, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Short for asexual.” Carlos clarified.

“I’m sorry, Perfect Carlos, I don’t know what that is.” Cecil said, looking embarrassed.

“Asexual is someone who doesn’t experience sexual attraction.” Carlos explained. “They can enjoy sex, but they don’t have to. They can be okay with sex, or they can be sex repulsed- which, in my scientific opinion, you are. But being asexual doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you, or that you love people any less. You just don’t want to have sex. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense.” Cecil nodded, thinking on Carlos’ words. His heart was fluttering- no- _thumping_ in his chest. He couldn't believe there was a word for how he felt, or that Carlos was smart enough to know that word.

It felt like the weight of the entire world had been lifted off his shoulders.

 “So you’re not upset?” He asked, with raised eyebrows and widened eyes.

“Of course not!” Carlos laughed. “I only want to do that sort of thing if you want to, too.”

Cecil smiled, giving Carlos’ hand a squeeze. He hesitated, then threw his arms around Carlos' neck, knocking the scientist over.

“Perfect Carlos, how did you get so perfect?” Cecil asked, his voice barely a whisper as he clutched onto Carlos' shoulders.

“I’m not perfect Cecil.” Carlos shook his head.

“Yes you are.” Cecil insisted. “You are perfect, and I love you.”

"I- I love you too, Cecil." Carlos smiled. He kissed Cecil on the top of the head, turning on his television set as Cecil shifted positions, leaning against Carlos, their bodies close together, their breathing syncing. And in that moment, everything was perfect.

And Carlos made a point to talk to Cecil every day after that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! :D  
> I feel accomplished, honestly.  
> I hope you guys enjoyed, and bonus points if you recognize one of the scenes in this chapter. ;D

**Author's Note:**

> This stemmed mainly from my desire to see more asexual representation. It's always nice for me to see myself in characters.  
> Also, I know my "smut" is terrible, please be kind.  
> Thanks for reading, and, as always, feel free to comment or otherwise drop me a line. :D


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